A Promise Kept
by PolypusRegina
Summary: Loki pays Jane a visit...ONE-SHOT Smuuuuuut !


**A/N::** Just a quick note before we begin…this little story might require a little suspension of disbelief. I tried to keep Loki and Jane as accurate and in-character as possible, but this scenario can be tricksy, so please forgive me if things seem a little..off, maybe! It's all just fun and games, you know. And smut.

Thanks for reading~!

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><p><strong>A Promise Kept<strong>

It was another late night for Jane. She realized just how late it was when she looked up from her work at last to realize that everyone else had left, and she didn't even remember saying good-bye to any of them. She stretched in her seat, rolling her head back over aching shoulders, extended her arms back behind her, and rubbed the tiredness from her eyes—the workaholic's yoga.

Exhaustion was beginning to set in, and she knew that poor productivity would follow. She finally convinced herself to call it a night, and closed the program she was working on. The satellite images disappeared from the screen. It continued to glow for a moment. Then it faded to black.

She got up from the work desk and started her nightly rounds in the makeshift lab, giving all the equipment a final check before she left.

But something wasn't right.

In the dark, she stood transfixed in front of one of the walls of monitors, watching one screen flicker with static like a TV with poor reception. She watched it for nearly a minute, immobilized. Then, amidst the black and white fuzz, she could have sworn she saw a face flash before her eyes for a fraction of a second. And for a moment, she thought it might have been Thor's.

She drew closer, her soft features illuminated by the restless light, her gaze searching desperately for that face again. The static began to grow violent. Angry, jagged bands of black and white crackled and popped as if they threatened to shatter the machine altogether.

Jane felt her heart pound as she lifted a hand and reached out to touch the screen. Just as the tips of her fingers were an inch from the monitor, it gave an audible pop and it went black.

Her breath caught in her throat—a gasp that failed to escape her. Unable to move, she stared at the screen and at last pressed her fingers to it, as if she was checking its pulse. She saw only her reflection, staring back at her.

But just before she started to pull her hand away, her nerves finally returning to her, another image crept into view on the darkened monitor, just to the right of her own puzzled likeness. It took her a moment to see it, and another fraction of a second to process what it was, and her heart sank in her chest. It was another face. And it wasn't generated by the computer. It was the reflection of someone standing just behind her.

In a panicked reaction, she turned around to face the intruder and tried to back away, the back of her hips bumping the desk as if she forgot there was something there.

In front of her stood a man she had never seen before, but something about him seemed dreadfully familiar. Her frenzied gaze noticed his clothing—dark, embroidered fabrics and gleaming metal armor—and she instantly knew he was not from New Mexico. It would have been difficult to make out his features in the dark, but the moonlight was at its peak, and it beamed down through the glass surrounding them. It was striking how similar the tone of his skin was to the moonlight itself, and his hair was so black it seemed to absorb every bit of light there was. It was a poetic contrast. But before she could finish her assessment of the man, he said her name, as if he had been looking for her, and interrupted her rushing thoughts.

"Yes, I'm—"

She started to confirm that she was Jane Foster, but suddenly, as she continued to watch his face, she realized that admitting who she was had not been wise. His pale skin, his dark hair, the impish smirk that curled his lips, even just the shade of green that adorned his clothing convinced her that he was not someone she wanted to be alone with. Yet there she was.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to sound as calm and neutral as possible. She recognized that it might not have been the most intelligent question at the time, but it was the only thing she could think of.

The man laughed under his breath, his dark gaze at last leaving her face to glance about the room.

"I'm not sure I want to tell you just yet," he answered.

His voice made her shiver. It was low and dripping with a dangerous charm. The stranger appeared to think for a moment, then his eyes, a strikingly pale blue, snapped back to Jane.

"Though… perhaps I should tell you," a dark grin blossomed on his handsome face, "Or maybe I'll just finish what I came here to do, and I'll let you figure it out yourself."

His insistence on remaining mysterious and enigmatic frustrated her. Anger started to overtake her initial fear.

"Came here to do what? Who the hell are you, thinking you can just break in here like this?" she raised her voice reproachfully, taking a step forward, away from the desk and wall of monitors.

The man's smile disappeared.

"You would be wise not to speak to me in such an unbecoming manner, my dear. Believe me, I am capable of things _far _worse than what I intend to do to you."

Jane's blood ran cold just a second after it had begun to boil over. Upon seeing the fear he had caused her with just the mere suggestion, he decided to divulge more of his intentions, taking a malicious pleasure in the effect he had on her.

"I suspect you remember my dear _brother_, Thor," he began, tasting disgust on his tongue at the words.

Jane felt a rush of emotions. If bad memories served her correctly, this was the man that had nearly had Thor—as well as any unsuspecting bystander—killed in front of her, and destroyed half the town. But she wasn't yet sure.

"And I suspect that having said that, you wonder if he's coming back for you."

She didn't speak. She didn't move.

"He's not." He said sharply, "But luckily for you, I made myself a promise. Would you like to know what that promise was?"

He took a couple slow, graceful steps toward her, until he nearly had her pinned to the great mass of circuitry behind them. She stayed defiantly quiet, and made no move. He smiled at her feeble attempt to defend herself with silence.

"I made a promise to myself that I would go out of my way to pay you a little visit, Jane," he leaned down, making up for the difference in height, and pressed his thin lips close to her ear, nearly touching her, and added:

"And this visit won't be over until I mark you as my own so undeniably that Thor might know the pain of having what he loves ripped from his oafish clutches and placed ever so lovingly into_ mine!_" he hissed the last word and Jane felt as though she might collapse.

In that instant, confusion clouded her thoughts, but she knew one thing for sure. She knew she had to run. She made an attempt to squirm out from beneath him, but he was too quick. He seized her arm with one hand and pulled her back forcibly and took hold of her other arm, pinning them behind her, and effectively stopping her ability to fight back. He lowered his head again and spoke in a slow, terrifying whisper:

"Every possible exit is locked, and if you try to run again, I will not hesitate to make this _as painful as possible for you, do you understand?_"

Jane nodded, unable to speak. She was finally beginning to realize what he had in mind for her.

"Now, I don't intend to make this an altogether unpleasant experience, my dear…" he whispered more gently against her throat, "so play along nicely and you might just enjoy yourself."

She swallowed hard as her head swum.

"Now…are you going to be a good girl, Jane? Can I trust you not to do anything _foolish_?"

She felt the warmth of his breath ghost across her neck, and she nodded again, words still failing her. Although she wished she was anywhere but there, in his grip, there was something dark and captivating about him that made her cooperate far more willingly that she knew she should have.

He said softly, "Good," and released her arms. No longer supported by him, she fell back against the desk, bracing the edge of it with her trembling hands. He watched her stumble and smirked.

"Why are you doing this? Why me?" she asked, almost in a whisper. It was partly a legitimate question, and partly a plea. He snorted in derision.

"Were you too overcome by my good looks to pay attention? It's not about you, you silly girl. It's about me possessing something that _he _covets so preciously. And that 'something' just so happens to be a beautiful woman."

As he spoke, he began to move away from her, walking about the lab aimlessly but with interest, as if he was looking for something. But as he finished his sentence, he made a point to look back at her over his shoulder with a rather devilish grin.

He stopped in front of a table that sat in the very center of the room. It was relatively low, and sturdy, and it seemed to please him. But it was covered in open books and mountains of documents.

Jane watched as he lifted a long, slender arm and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. As if caught up in a gust of wind, the papers leapt off the table and fluttered to the ground, scattered from one end of the room to the other. A heap of books slid off the table like a aggressive landslide and hit the floor with an unceremonious thud, pages ruffled and spines bent. It was a bibliophile's nightmare.

"Hey!" she exclaimed as she witnessed her precious work regarded so carelessly, "I'll have you know there _was _an order to all those articles! Now they'll—"

"Be grateful I didn't turn your life's work into a pile of ash!" He barked viciously, stunning her into silence.

When he revealed his malicious side again, she felt her chest tighten painfully, and she wondered if being so compliant was a good idea after all. Maybe she had underestimated him. In a last minute decision—and while he seemed preoccupied—she began to make her way to the nearest door, convinced that escape was still an option. But although her actions were meant to be slow and unnoticeable, he noticed. Abandoning all hope, she made a run for it again, not caring if she had to throw herself through a pane of glass to break free.

But he was always one step ahead of her. Almost unflinchingly, his hand shot up once more, and Jane felt the grip of invisible fingers close around her throat, her wrists, her ankles, anywhere they sought. It stopped her dead in her tracks, not necessarily in pain, but startled so badly she couldn't move.

The man made his way over to her in no rush, confident she wouldn't try anything else. She felt his magic release her at last, but the fingers at her throat were replaced by his very real ones. He closed his hand around the base of her neck for a moment.

"What did I tell you, Jane?" he asked quietly. "Was I unclear?"

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, not knowing what to say that would disarm him. It seemed to work…just a little. He pulled his hand away from her neck and took hold of her left arm, yanking her with him as he moved back to the table, now clear of any bothersome debris. He finally let go of her again only to pin her to the edge of it with his body, her back to him. He bent her over the table and leaned into her aggressively from behind, and she felt his hips grind against her rear. She gave a little moan, which startled her. Had she moaned out of helplessness…or unexpected arousal? She didn't have time to wonder.

"I have no intention of hurting you, Jane," he murmured, his lips touching her ear once more. His voice fell low and dangerous around her, satin smooth and sharp as broken glass. From the position they were in, she couldn't see his face, and that made her worry.

"I wish only to provide you with the things my brother cannot. I know you cared about him…but I can't help wondering if it was _lust _more than love… Isn't it true that you were _dying _to have him pressed against you like this?"

He forced his hips into her just a bit harder, and she felt one of his skilled hands run down her back and over her side to the front of her hips.

"I know you were curious, Jane…you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be _fucked _by a God…could you?"

She couldn't fight back a gasp as he let his hand slip under the edge of her t-shirt and tease the sensitive skin of her belly, dangerously close to her pelvis, just above the top of her jeans. Her body tensed up against him, and he pressed forward. He relished that first gasp as though he had broken through her defenses at last.

He kissed the soft flesh just below her ear, taking his first taste of her. She tasted of innocence longing to be corrupted. Goosebumps erupted over her skin as a chill shot down her spine. It felt so good…

"I suppose for your own sake, you should at least know my name…after all, you will be screaming it very soon." He said softly against her neck.

In her clouded daze, all she could manage to murmur was:

"…Your name…?"

To which he replied:

"Loki."

Something about that single word—that name—crept inside of her and made itself cozy, with no intention of leaving anytime soon. Some small part of her longed to say it herself, longed to hear his name fall from own lips, but something wouldn't let her do it. She couldn't say it.

Loki laughed, a dark chuckle under his breath that did strange things to her.

He ran his left hand along the arch of her spine, up the back of her neck, and wove his fingers into the soft waves of her hair. Firmly, he pulled her back so she was standing upright again, still flush against him, still held in place by the table.

"So you _were_ curious…" he murmured, the side of his face nestled against the crook of her neck where wisps of auburn hair met milky skin.

"And I shall have you know… I am a far better lover than that clumsy beast Thor could ever hope to be.."

He added the last part quietly, almost more to himself than to Jane. Then he stopped a moment, as if he was thinking, and said amusedly:

"Although I suppose that point is insignificant to you for many reasons."

His nose buried in her hair, he breathed in her natural scent. The smell of sweet, clean sweat, undoubtedly caused by his illicit actions, and it pleased him.

Jane bit back a little whimper as she felt him there, pressed so intimately into her. Something about it just felt right. And that terrified her.

A dark laugh died inside of his chest, keeping it mute to her ears. On a sudden impulse, he touched the tip of his tongue to the base of her neck, where it sloped into her shoulder, and ran it up along her skin, behind her jaw, finally reaching her ear. Jane gave an audible gasp at the unexpected contact, and melted into him.

He caught her earlobe just between his lips and flicked it with his tongue before releasing it from his mouth. But he wasn't finished torturing that place just yet. He pressed another kiss just behind her ear and she felt the warmth of his breath trickle down over her neck and felt extraordinarily exposed. With every touch, she felt herself slip further into darkness and irrationality, and under his control, she felt powerless to stop it.

Lost in her own rambling thoughts, she suddenly realized that he had pulled away from her at last. The damp trails he left on her skin were abandoned and they felt cold against the air around them.

"Well this was unexpected…" Loki purred, untangling his fingers from her hair and running them slowly down the length of her curved spine once more.

"You were quite insistent on putting up a fight just a moment ago. I wonder what caused you to change your mind…"

Without much warning, Loki placed a hand firmly on Jane's hip and tugged back sharply, causing her to turn and face him. Having her back flush against him had been shockingly intimate for her enough, so the new position took her by surprise and caused her heart to stutter. Something about facing away from him felt appropriate, since he was holding her captive. But now, her thighs intertwined with his, her hips connecting with his pelvis, she felt _closer _to him. And she couldn't tell if she liked it or not.

Impulsively, her eyes flickered up to meet his dark gaze as he watched her, and immediately she wished she hadn't.

"Could it be that you've discovered you rather like the way I feel against you?" he murmured, lifting a hand gingerly to the side of her face to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, taking the opportunity to slide his hand behind her jaw and force her to look at him. When he felt her resist him, he growled:

"Don't deny it…You can try to lie to me all you want, but if there's one thing I know…it's how to spot a bad liar."

As if to drive the point deeper into her, he tilted her face up to meet him and captured her lips with his in a possessive, hungry kiss. Although her first instinct was to pull away, a pair of factors kept her firmly in place. There was, of course, the fact that he had her physically locked down against him—there simply was no room to free herself. But the second reason had even more of an effect on her, though she couldn't say exactly what it was. It might have been the untamed passion she felt him electrify her with, the smoldering flame in her belly reignited into a raging inferno. It could have been the way he readily parted her soft lips to gain total access. He tasted of darkness and power.

A shameless moan drowned between them—the sound of Jane accepting the madness.

He began to press her back against the table, pulling his hand away from her face so he could slide them both just under her thighs. Effortlessly, he lifted her up—which caused her to throw her arms around his neck in response—and set her on the table, her bottom perched on the very edge, Loki nestled comfortably between her legs.

But even after he had placed her safely where he wanted, she didn't let go of him just yet. She held him close as they never once broke the kiss, pulling him deeper into her, not caring about Thor or anyone else.

Loki ran his hands back up her thighs and left them around her waist. He pushed into her, forcing her onto her back so that he arched over her like a great dark mass.

And at last, the kiss was broken, leaving Jane gasping for breath as she felt the God lavish her neck instead. She tipped her chin up so there was little part of her throat unexposed to his advances, and he hummed against her with contentment.

Meanwhile, his hands had grown restless again, and began to wander up her waist, pushing the soft cotton of her shirt upward, revealing more silky flesh to his desires. His hands were warm against her heated skin, his fingertips teasing delicate parts of her as he drew nearer her chest.

As he began tracing the edge of her bra, it dawned on Jane that things were going to become very serious, very fast. She hadn't been this physically intimate with a man in far too long, and she realized every desire to resist him had fled her. Loki felt her begin to squirm beneath him as he teased her relentlessly, and he laughed against her throat before finally giving her what she wanted.

Jane suppressed a breathy moan when his hands slipped under her bothersome garment to seek out that glorious, soft flesh. The warmth of his palms caused a voracious heat to pool between her thighs. She pulled her legs around his waist impulsively and Loki groaned, a low rumble in his chest comprised of deep male satisfaction.

He pulled away from her throat and slid down her body, meeting her foggy gaze for a lingering moment before lowering his head to her stomach and placing small, unassuming kisses there. Jane suddenly felt it was harder and harder to breath as Loki slowly made his way down her abdomen, his lips, his _tongue_, making a point of exploring the softness of her curves.

When he reached the top of her pelvis, he paused, and looked back up at her, pleased to see her chest heaving. When she realized he had stopped, she lifted her head to watch him. A rather wicked grin curled his dampened lips. He lifted himself up a bit and moved his hands to the top of her hip-hugging jeans, ready to cast aside another major barrier to his long sought-after prize. After unbuttoning them, he hooked his fingers in her belt loops and began to slide them off of her rounded hips.

Although he was growing painfully hard, he was in no hurry. If he had learned one thing about women, it was that doing certain things slowly drove them insane.

He also took the opportunity to remove her panties as well, sliding the undergarment off along with her jeans, revealing every bit of hidden flesh to him all at once. And this was an opportunity he didn't want to waste.

Loki bestowed increasingly lascivious kisses and licks to each inch of her body as it was exposed to him, and soon enough, there was nothing concealed from him. Jane cried out in surprise as he parted her with his fingers and ran his tongue along her delicate folds. Her back arched up off of the tabletop, but Loki held her hips securely in place, his fingers digging into her yielding thighs. His lips closed around her swollen clit and a jolt of white-hot ecstasy coursed up her spine, her breathing becoming far more labored. She felt his tongue, warm, wet, and rough, swirl around that sensitive bit of flesh, and she was nearly coming undone.

Sensing her impending climax, Loki ceased his actions, lifting his head and licking his lips. Jane felt incredibly unprepared for any of this. She didn't know whether to cry, or scream, or beg shamelessly for more. But although things were rapidly becoming a daze, she knew she wanted him to finish what he had started.

Loki chuckled under his breath as he watched her pleasure wane, seeing her cheeks flushed with long-repressed carnal wont. He could easily understand why Thor had taken such a liking to her. And it pleased him that much more, then, to have her writhing beneath him.

He pulled back and tugged her jeans off of her graceful legs altogether, taking time as he did so to feel her skin under his fingertips.

At last, there was nothing preventing him from claiming her the way he wanted—fucking her until she screamed his name.

Loki wasted little time freeing himself from the confines of his snug leather trousers, and was just as quick in repositioning himself comfortably between her supple thighs. He pressed forward, leaning over her once more, taking her wrists in his hands and pinning them above her head. He bent down, touched his lips to her ear and murmured:

"Do you want it, Jane? Are you aching to have me buried inside of your soaking cunt? Hm?"

She felt lightheaded. Words failed her for a moment, but she fought to find her voice. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore, except giving herself to him as completely as possible. Everything about the way he touched her and the way he made her feel was just so _right_. The danger, the charm…she wanted everything. Finally, she answered desperately:

"Yes…Oh God, Loki, please…"

There it was. His name on her lips. Begging him to take her. To Loki, he had never heard anything more pleasing. No praise had ever sounded sweeter than what she had just uttered.

He groaned, "Yes…" against her throat and sheathed himself inside of her with a single stroke. He lost himself in the glorious sensation, her entire body tightening around him, squeezing him in all the right places. Jane cried out, never wanting that initial exquisite pain to subside.

Given everything that led up to this point, they both knew it would be fast and heavy, and they were perfectly happy with that. Loki withdrew from her soaking heat and thrust back into her with hardly a second's pause. He felt her hips shift to meet his strokes, allowing him a satisfyingly deep penetration, growing closer to that spot he knew would have her a dripping mess.

Jane's fingers curled around his, and he felt her nails bite into his flesh on the back of his hands. He hissed in her ear and decided that two could play at that game. He gave a particularly aggressive thrust into her, and sunk his teeth into her dampened flesh, where the lines between what was shoulder and what was neck were blurred. And in that moment, he struck that delicious spot inside of her with illustrious force. Jane cried out, Loki's name pouring from her lips in a deafening exaltation.

Her muscles shuddered around his aching length, locking him into an embrace he had no desire to escape from. In a great crash of elements and sensations, the God's breath hitched in his throat and a wave of surging pleasure enraptured him, and not just physically.

A second later, as he came down off of his climactic high, Loki realized at some point, he had let go of Jane's hands, which were now tightly wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a passionate, yet languid kiss. Her actions were unexpected, but he welcomed them with equal fervor. She murmured his name again, and he tasted it on his tongue. Like triumph and satisfaction. Like Jane.

He grinned against her lips as they both lay in the darkness, trying to catch their breath. But Loki's mind was still working, even in the drowsy darkness, and he thought about what he'd said earlier. He knew he didn't keep promises very often. To him, they were poorly-founded agreements that were rarely worth pledging. But this was one promise he was very, _very _glad he kept.


End file.
